Comfort and Joy

According to Hallmark, Starbucks, and local easy-listening radio stations, it’s Christmas time here in the South, and for those of us who like to take things one holiday at a time, it can be a little disconcerting to see the holiday frenzy already in full effect. Although Thanksgiving is still four days away, apparently people can multi-task by changing things up throughout the week to reflect whatever season their hearts desire in that moment. Apparently, you can go from watching college football and drinking a pumpkin spiced latte after a fun-filled day at an apple farm to watching a sappy, predictable, feel-good love story and sipping a peppermint mocha after a well-spent afternoon decorating a Christmas tree. No judgment here. People are doing what gives them joy, and if you’re one of “those people”, then I’m fine with it. You do you, boo-boo. Whatever floats your boat. Your home = your business.

At my house, we don’t decorate for Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving, and sometimes even later depending on my motivation that year. It’s a lot of work, so I understand why people start early so that they can enjoy the fruits of their labor a little longer. Traditions are all fine and dandy until life throws you a curve ball and you’re faced navigating the holidays in a way you haven’t experienced before. A move, death in the family, broken relationship, etc. can all be very overwhelming and hard to process amidst the hustle, bustle, and seasonal cheer on display everywhere you turn.

Maybe you’re like me and you’re processing the death of a child who loved all things Christmas. Maybe you’re experiencing this holiday in a new city and you’re not surrounded by sights and sounds that are familiar to you and you haven’t had a chance to make meaningful relationships yet. Maybe you were thinking that this Christmas would be “the one” where you got a proposal and a sparkly diamond but instead you are left with feelings of brokenness and inadequacy after an unexpected breakup has left you devastated. Maybe you’re going through a nasty divorce, are out of a job, or coping with a diagnosis that has left you reeling. How do you take all of these circumstances and find comfort and joy in the midst of the heartache, loneliness, and despair?

You do what makes you happy and you rid yourself (to the best of your ability) of what brings you down. And you owe nobody any explanations for how you handle a single thing, especially if this is your first season in bereavement. You don’t apologize for being sad or try to mask your feelings. Feel what you feel and give yourself grace to do so.

This will be the 3rd Christmas since the passing of our sweet Carterbug, and I thought it may be helpful to share how our family has stumbled through the past two holiday seasons and tried to be intentional with our actions in an effort to just get through the days without falling into total despair. I pray this helps and gives insight to anyone who is struggling. First, let me say that I am so very sorry for the pain that may have brought you to this blog post in the first place. Please know that you are not alone in your grief. Death, heartache, broken relationships, physical maladies, and employment stresses are unfortunately a part of this life, and we will all take our turn in the valley. Praise God that one sweet day, all things will be made whole and well, and it will all make perfect sense. Keep the faith, friend. We’re one day closer already to being in perfect and total peace. No more darkness! Pure light awaits us.

December 2017 was Christmas season #1 without Carter who absolutely, unequivocally adored the holiday and all its festivities. My heart was so unbelievably heavy…I had dreaded for weeks prior what was coming because I didn’t know how I was going to make it. We had just lost him unexpectedly to suicide in July. The shock was fading and reality was smacking us in the face with every jolly Santa, sweet treat, and Bing Crosby song we encountered. How I hated the sights and sounds already! I wanted to just hide under the covers and hit the fast forward button on my life. Just skip the month of December entirely, but wait…that wouldn’t help, either, because then I’d be in a new year. How could I start a new year without my son?! At least when it was 2017, I still had memories of him from that year. I couldn’t imagine starting 2018 because there would be no more memories with him. Oh, dear God, it was all so overwhelming! The Lord quickly spoke to me one day and told me that since pictures and sharing stories of Carter had been helping me cope more than anything, why not do the same thing during each day in December? Immediately, my mind started spinning. I had so many wonderful Christmas memories with my boy- 12 years worth in fact, and plenty of pictures to reinforce visually what was forever etched in my heart. I immediately got excited about the idea and just like that, I had hope that I was going to be able to make it after all.

Each day that month I shared a Christmas memory about him on social media and included relevant pictures. It is literally what got me through those especially hard days, because I forced myself to go up to his bedroom, find the pictures that were chronologically placed in photo albums, snap a picture of them on my IPhone, and think about how I was going to put into words the memory for that particular day that would best showcase to others my sweet boy. Doing those things gave me a purpose, and I got a special thrill as everyone had the chance to “see” and “know” my son. He was not forgotten! His little life was still valued, treasured, and acknowledged by loved ones, friends, acquaintances, and virtual strangers thanks to Facebook.

A dear friend knew how incredibly priceless those stories and pictures were to me,  so she gave me the most thoughtful and perfect gift ever- a hardcover scrapbook that she created through Shutterfly by copying what I had shared on social media. That  book will always be set out on the coffee table in our living room for others to flip through as we move forward and experience more Christmases. In doing so, his memory lives on, and that gives me comfort and joy.

Another thing that we did that year that was so very bittersweet was giving Carter’s beloved violin to one of his closest friends in school who was showing tremendous promise and potential in orchestra. Joseph and I had been looking at Carter’s violin in the shiny red case (his favorite color) just sitting in the floor of our office downstairs (aka “music room”) and thought that if someone special to Carter could enjoy making beautiful music with it, then maybe that would be for the best. It was sad to see it just laying on the floor and silent. We had peace about the decision, but when the time came for us to deliver it to a boy named Nigel, it felt like we were giving a piece of our boy away, and tears were shed. It wasn’t just any old instrument, you see. It was special. However, gifting that to someone whose face lit up with excitement upon receiving it helped a lot. It, too, brought us comfort and joy. 

The Sunday before Christmas that year in 2017 was a hard one. I don’t remember exactly what made it so diffcult- maybe it was the songs sung by the church choirs that made me miss him so or just seeing his empty spot on the pew. I honestly can’t remember because I was just so upset and cried ugly tears during the service. Afterwards, we were supposed to eat our traditional Sunday dinner at my Nana’s house, but as soon as we pulled into her driveway, we noticed my cousin’s car there. She hardly ever came to visit, and she and I had never really gotten along all that well. The last person I wanted to see that day was her, especially with a tear-stained face. I told Joseph that I couldn’t do it, and he immediately put the car in reverse and we headed out to eat at McCallister’s. Nana was upset by my actions and let me know about it later that day in a fury laden phone call, but you know what? I did what felt best to me on that day. Not having to endure sitting at a table and breaking bread with a cousin who had previously shown a lot of angst towards me was the right decision, even if my own family didn’t understand. They didn’t have to. I did what I had to do to bring me comfort and joy, and that day it just so happened to be a delicatessen instead of my grandmother’s kitchen.

We also felt that doing acts of kindness in Carter’s memory was very important. Christmas is about giving, after all. I wanted to do something for a children’s home in Greenville that had been to our church months before sharing their ministry, and after discussing the idea with our Pastor, he gave the green light for me to help coordinate a holiday food drive to benefit them. Hundreds of cans and pre-packaged foods were dropped off that month, and each Sunday night I went to a little room in the back of our church foyer and helped sort the items. It was very satisfying seeing all the food and knowing that each morsel would be used to nourish young children who had been abandoned by the ones who should have loved them the most. My son was gone, there was a void that could never be filled, but helping to care for other children gave me a sense of purpose. Together with several members of our church, we loaded up everything after a few weeks of collection and made the trek to Greenville to deliver the groceries to the Tabernacle Children’s Home. We were able to visit with the children, and several men from our church went out to a big field and played a game of tag football with them. Seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter helped bring all of us comfort and joy on that December day.

Moving on to season #2 without Carter- 2018. I still felt a strong urge to share pictures and memories, but I had already talked about his love of Christmas music, holiday lights, baking, gingerbread men, etc. the previous year and shown his pictures with Santa, opening presents, and his Christmas artwork. Hmmm….what else could I share that would shed insight about him each day during December that also had a holiday spin to it? Immediately, a lightbulb moment occurred and I knew the perfect thing to do. You see, we had always bought special ornaments for our tree and took special care to pick out a perfect one for each child to represent whatever interests/memories pertained to them that particular year. Carter’s ornaments held so many fond memories, and I wanted others to know about them, so each day I took a picture of one of his ornaments and then went through his photo albums to find relevant pictures to share on social media. For example, he had Thomas the Train and Percy ornaments from 2008 when he started his love of trains, so I found pictures of his 3rd birthday party at Pizza Inn with his Thomas the Train cake, pictures of him driving the train at Cleveland Park in his conductor outfit, the time we took him and his sister to NC to ride a real train through the mountains, and both of them standing in front of a steam-engine called Klondike Katie at Dollywood. Several ornaments were from vacations to Tennessee, Disney World, Texas, the Isle of Palms, and Washington, D.C. so I dug out photos of him enjoying the sights, foods, and experiences at those places. Again, I had a purpose for each day. Again, his memory lived on, and again, people were getting to know bits and pieces of him that made him so special. Yet again, somehow and someway I was able to find comfort and joy. 

Our act of kindness that year was helping to buy Christmas gifts for children whose mother had recently sent out a plea on social media. She had apparently fallen on hard times and didn’t know how to explain to her little boys that Santa wasn’t coming. I didn’t know this woman from Adam, but as soon as I read it, I texted Joseph and said we had to help. Immediately that afternoon Caroline and I went shopping and came back home to wrap the gifts. We found great deals on clothes from Old Navy, shoes from Rack Room, and toys from Hamrick’s. Another friend met us at the apartment complex and her van was loaded with items for the boys as well, in addition to groceries. We knew right away that we had done what we were supposed to do when we saw the mother and her living environment. They were clearly in need of help. A few days later on Christmas morning, the friend who met us there texted me a picture that the mom had sent her of the boys proudly wearing the outfits we had purchased with huge smiles on their faces. Seeing them certainly helped bring us comfort and joy. 

What are my plans for this year? Well, it just so happens that I already know what I’m going to do and I’m very excited to share it. Some of my fondest memories with my son is of us baking yummy things together in the kitchen, so I am combining our shared love of baking to make special treats for people who were influential in Carter’s life. Many of the recipes will be traditional ones while there are others that I have saved on Pinterest boards for years and have never tried. This is a pretty significant undertaking, so I have already reached out to my sister for her help. She actually came to our house in Christmas PJs one evening in Dec. 2015 to help us bake, and Carter and Caroline had a ton of fun with her. She misses him so much…he was more of a little brother to her than a nephew, so I am looking forward to having her here. Each day I will post the recipe on social media while giving a shout-out to the recipient and sharing memories of Carter with that person. My hope is that some people will see the recipe and decide to try it out with their own families. Perhaps other children will get to experience fun times in the kitchen with their loved ones as a result of the inspiration received from my posts. That will certainly help spread comfort and joy. 

When it comes to traditions like putting up the Christmas tree, hanging stockings, sharing holiday meals with family, etc. you have to do whatever feels right to you. Take it one day at a time. Don’t feel obligated to say yes to anything in advance, because you never know how you’ll feel when the actual day dawns. However, it has been my experience that when I have tackled certain hard tasks, I have been given “signs from heaven” letting me know that my boy is pleased. For example, decorating the Christmas tree in 2017- I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t want to rob Caroline of the joy of having a beautiful tree in our living room. Joseph was working 3rd shift at the time, so I waited until Caroline was in bed and he was gone to do it. That way, if it was too hard or emotional, no one would be there to witness my breakdown. The first ornament I decided to hang was a blue butterfly one- very symbolic and special. I had turned the TV to a Christmas music station, and as soon as I had climbed the ladder to hang that particular ornament on one of the upper branches, Elton John’s “Step Into Christmas” started playing- my favorite secular Christmas tune. I texted Joseph immediately and told him Carter was letting me know he was proud of me. Last year, we took Caroline and some of her friends to Hearts of Clay, a local pottery painting studio, for her birthday. Although it was September, I saw a gingerbread man and decided to paint it in Carter’s memory with Joseph’s help. Shortly after we began, Joseph got up from his seat and stepped outside of the building with tears streaming down his face. I was puzzled at first, because I didn’t know what had triggered his grief, but then I heard it…strains of “Oceans” by Hillsong United were softly heard through the speaker system- one of Carter’s favorite songs. I knew again in my heart that he was letting us know he was proud of us for what we were doing. He may be physically gone from our sight, but I can still feel his presence at times – we are still connected somehow, and that gives me comfort and joy.

Maybe you’re not experiencing any of the aforementioned grief or emotional turmoil in your life this season, and all is gumdrops and rainbows for you and your family. Bask in that, because you need to hold on to every good thing life has to afford with every fiber of your being- it can all be wiped away in an instant. What can you do? Well, for starters, you can strive to be kind and generous when out in public because you’re literally in the presence of the walking wounded. It’s so vitally important that you make an effort to just be good and decent. It costs absolutely nothing to have good manners and a kind spirit. Be patient, smile, lend a helping hand, think of ways to encourage and spread kindness to others, give selflessly, and try to remember that while you may be on the mountaintop belting out Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” and looking forward to watching “Elf” for the hundredth time while surrounded by your loved ones, there are those of us who are missing an integral part of our family circle and trying to breathe through the crushing weight of loss. All is not merry and bright for everyone.

If you’re someone who is recently bereaved or under a heavy burden for whatever reason- if, after doing some of the things I have mentioned above or whatever it is that you feel led to do to cope with your loss and stress, you’re still struggling with depression and darkness, then please reach out and get help. Suicides spike during the holidays. It can easily become “too much” for so many who are hurting, so please know that help is out there. Your presence here matters. You are loved more than you know and have brighter days ahead even if you can’t see them.

This year I’m looking forward to experiencing baby Carlen’s first Christmas, Caroline is looking forward to hiding our elf “Ralphie” each night for her sister, and Joseph has already mentioned taking the baby to Hearts of Clay and painting her first Christmas pottery tile- her footprints with the word “Mistletoes” painted above them. We’re making new memories as a family  while holding tight to the old ones shared with our boy. Together, each one (past and present) will help bring all of us comfort and joy, and when all is said and done at the end of the day, that’s all I really want for Christmas.